


A Token For a Knight

by Kona



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Armor, Edelgard and Dorothea are great wingmen prove me wrong, General Chivalry Nonsense, Horseback Riding, Hubert Is Secretly Mushy, Jousting, Kissing, M/M, Sorry Sylvain, The Power Of Love, Tokens, Tournaments, introspective, prove me wrong, shameless fluff, unbeta'd we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:40:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22056433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kona/pseuds/Kona
Summary: Now Hubert did pause, looking up from his work.“A token?”Dorothea rolled her eyes at him, craning her head towards him.“Hubie,” A touch of condescend, wrapped in Dorothea’s usual scolding, “You’re telling me you grew up a noble and never once learned about tokens?”--A gift for the FE3H Secret Santa!
Relationships: Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra, Mentioned Petra/Dorothea - Relationship
Comments: 14
Kudos: 281





	A Token For a Knight

**Author's Note:**

> This rapidly grew out of control, as so many projects do-because it slowly morphed into a Hubert character study without me meaning to? I'm sorry, tidalzora, this is not really what you asked for, and yet it's what my brain came up with. I started looking up things about jousting and armor and frankly I bit off more than I can chew, but like, Ferdinand is a total goof and he 100% would be fueled by the power of love that is a Token. I'm also just so bad...at writing mlm fic despite loving to read it so bear with me friends. So here we are, on the last day for the Secret Santa, just making it work. I hope you enjoy! And Happy Holidays!

Peace was a good look on Fodlan, Hubert thought.

And it wasn’t just a false peace, kept in place by the Church this time around. It was an actual peace, fostered through cooperation and grit. It was there because Edelgard had forged ahead and made it so. 

That was the way Hubert had always seen it, anyways. But then, he’d always been sympathetic towards Edelgard’s drives and ambitions. Everything he’d done up until now had been for her, after all. So, like they’d hoped as students, Hubert was quite enjoying the way peace fell over the Adrestian Empire. 

And it was because of this peacetime that Hubert was allowing himself to relax more and allow his budding courtship with Ferdinand to blossom into something more...well,  _ official _ was a bold way to put it. Edelgard considered them like sides of a coin now, opposite yet never apart. It wasn’t an unfair assessment. And it was helpful in dealing with the many issues that came up when governing for the Empress’s Prime Minister and Minister of Internal Affairs to be of one mind. 

Even if their methods  _ may _ vary from time to time in council meetings. 

It was in one of these long council meetings, a year after everything settled, that an interesting idea was posed.

“A tournament?” Edelgard held the plan in her hands with a curious look on her face.

“Yes, a tournament.” The Minister of the Exterior was a common woman, who’d worked her way up in the years of the war, securing aid from their foreign neighbors and laying the groundwork for the treaties and ceasefires signed during and after the war. She was also partially in charge of public celebrations, a task Ferdinand had given her, to put her excellent organization skills to use now that peace was here. 

“It’s been a year since the war ended, and while a festival in the capitol would be a fine idea, there’s no saying that malcontents would take advantage. What better way to celebrate and still show our allies we’re still fighting fit?” she explained, pride on her face, “Our generals and top soldiers would get the chance to show the people they’re still able to protect them and entertain them.”

“But, we would still celebrate the victory in the traditional way, no?” Ferdinand had a frown on his face, “The people love festivals because of the plentiful bounty of food available to them. I would hate to take that away from them.”

“Fret not, Prime Minister, I’ve made sure that there will still be a cornucopia of food available to those in attendance.” 

Hubert had to hand it to the woman, she was persistent and thorough. 

“I personally have no objections to this,” Hubert smirked, leveling his gaze at Ferdinand and hold it, “Unless our Prime Minister is unsure if he’s still battle ready?”

“Ha!” Ferdinand’s laughter was rich and full, even if his face flushed at the barb. “Far from it! I am, as always, in peak condition, my dear Count Vestra.” The smile, confident and only a tad smug, that Hubert found beaming at him would have disgusted in him 6 years ago. 

Now, Hubert felt a sharp contraction in his chest, as his heart fluttered slightly. His own face didn’t waver, but from the way Ferdinand’s eyes crinkled at the edges, he knew that Ferdinand had seen his reaction in some way.

Edelgard cleared her throat, causing the two of them to turn their eyes towards her. She slid the proposal back towards the Minister of the Exterior and smiled. “I think this will do rather well. I’ll contact the Strike Force and see who is willing to show off their mettle. I’m sure there are others beside Ferdinand who are still fighting fit.”

\--

“Well, if Ferdie is going to be in this, shouldn’t you as well, Hubie?” 

Dorothea, as always, wasn’t far from the capitol when there were large council meetings. She’d been the go between for Brigid and Adrestia of the past 6 months since Petra was busy getting ready to take the throne abroad. She would then bring the information back to Brigid along with any proposals that she couldn’t sign off herself. 

At the moment she was making herself far too at home in Hubert’s office, lounging on the only comfortable surface in the whole office. The chaise was only supposed to be there for when Edelgard or Ferdinand visited, since Hubert didn’t care for the rest of the people he dealt with on a daily basis. They shouldn’t feel comfortable around him, after. And usually anyone who attempted to sit there was on the receiving end of a withering glare. And that was usually the end of it.

Except for Dorothea, apparently, because Hubert’s ability to frighten to her had been spotty at best even during school . 

“Dorothea, I’m sure you’re aware that I’ve never been the...athletic type.” Hubert didn’t even bother raising his eyes from his paperwork, “I’m sure that our compatriots will be more than happy to take any place I might have had. Including Petra, I might think.”

“Oh, I’m sure she’ll be overjoyed to show off for the cause.” Dorothea sighed, a little more than dreamily, “And that means I’ll get to give her a token before her fight. What do you think I should give her, Hubie?”

Now Hubert did pause, looking up from his work. 

“A token?” 

Dorothea rolled her eyes at him, craning her head towards him. 

“Hubie,” A touch of condescend, wrapped in Dorothea’s usual scolding, “You’re telling me you grew up a noble and never once learned about tokens?”

“Given that most of my schooling was in matters of state and in serving Lady Edelgard, no.”

“Well, then you’ve apparently never read any texts on knights as well!” Dorothea rose in a graceful flourish from the chaise and parked herself on the top of Hubert’s desk instead against his hiss of disapproval, “Before a knight enters combat in war or in a tournament it’s customary for their lady love to offer them a token of love and protection. It’s supposed to be good fortune.” 

“Oh, you mean that demeaning tradition where women fling their handkerchiefs into the arena? Pathetic drivel.” Hubert shook his head, going back to his work.

“Oh, only for those women too young to be engaged yet.” Dorothea wiggled her fingers around under Hubert’s glance, eliciting another hiss. She waited for him to glare up at her, before a cat like grin crossed her face. Her pointer finger tapped against his nose as she spoke. “For people like us it’s far more important.”

“Why, pray tell, is that?”

“Well, you’re going to give a token to Ferdie before he jousts, aren’t you?”

The thought hadn’t crossed his mind, but suddenly Hubert was hit with a cold sweat. The idea of a flurry of young nobles throwing their handkerchiefs at Ferdinand was a very real possibility. He was powerful, young, and handsome. In their youth, Hubert recalled Ferdinand’s father boasting about how many marriage arrangements he was juggling for his young heir. 

So far as the public knew, the young Prime Minister was available and, as that Goneril girl might put it, ‘A real catch’. That rankled Hubert more than he’d like to admit. His relationship with Ferdinand was private, and he rather liked it that way. But without the public declarations of love that so many of their friends had managed, Ferdinand was still viewed as...marriageable. 

“Hubie?” Dorothea’s eyes were worried as she cupped his cheeks, “Are you alright? I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“No, it’s quite alright, Dorothea.” Hubert brushed her hands away, “I just hadn’t considered what the implications of this whole tournament could be. I never would have agreed if I knew.”

“What? That suddenly everyone would be after your knight in shining armor?” Dorothea’s tone wasn’t cruel, but there was a little mirth in it, “Look, Hubie. I know you’re a private person. I honestly don’t think I’ve even seen you with your shirt off, to be honest.”

“What does that have to-” Dorothea’s finger against his lips stopped his protests.

“I’m just saying, I know it’d mean a lot to Ferdie if you did something like this. I mean, it’s either this lovely and noble act, oooor you sabotage Sylvain and Leonie’s saddles before the joust.” Dorothea shrugged, hopping off Hubert’s desk, “Just think about it. And let me know if you need any help picking something out.”

\--

“You have been unusually quiet, Hubert. Is everything alright?”

Ferdinand’s voice cut through the haze of Hubert’s thoughts, and he blinked his eyes away from staring into his coffee. He looked up at Ferdinand, whose face was equal parts concerned and cheerful. It was rare for Ferdinand to ever been in a sour mood, something that Hubert appreciated on stressful days.

“Think nothing of it, Ferdinand. I was just lost in thought.”

“You? Lost? Never.” Ferdinand chuckled, leaning over the small table they were sharing for their afternoon tea. “You must be scheming about something, no?”

“Perhaps I’m calculating the odds of the tournament next week. I’m wondering what my best chances will be.” 

“Oh? Well then you must put your money on me, of course!” Ferdinand puffed out his chest, tilting his chin up, “I will clean up the joust, just you wait and see!”

“Your cocksuredness does not mean you’ll be the victor,” Hubert countered. Still, he let Ferdinand take his hand, and allowed himself to smile. “But I had considered it.”

“I certainly will not lose if you are behind me, Hubert.” Ferdinand’s enthusiasm was never ending, but there was something that always gave Hubert a rush when it was aimed at him. The glint in his eyes was always bright, but it seemed ever brighter when Hubert was locking eyes with him.

“Such boldness, Prime Minister,” Hubert teased, squeezing Ferdinand’s hand. He leaned in, close enough to count the freckles on Ferdinand’s cheeks. “I’ll have to hold you to it then. To be sure you don’t let me down.”

“I would never let you down, Hubert.” 

Only Ferdinand could get away with saying things like that to him. Promises so bold, so impertinent, only a fool could follow through on them. Luckily, Ferdinand was just that kind of fool. Bright like the sun, unable to be brought down to earth with petty concerns. He was the only man who could make his heart race and make him believe that even for a moment, anything was possible. 

He never knew what to say in response to these oaths, these vows. He was the one who was meant to give vows, not the other way around. He’d been certain in his youth that there was only room in his heart for Edelgard. Only she would be able to stir any sort of strong feelings of devotion and love in him. 

How wrong he had been.

But how was he to put any of that to speech?

He settled for a kiss, since actions always spoke louder than words. 

The warmth that blossomed in his chest was still wholly new, and still even a bit uncomfortable, but he wouldn’t change it for the world.

\--

The tournament, as it was promised, was a magnificent affair. Banners and flags streaming in the air, confetti and streamers littering the main thoroughfares. Music trumpeted from every street corner leading to the grand stadium in Enbarr. While Hubert wasn’t one for the pomp and circumstance, even he could admit that the Minister had outdone herself. 

He was willing to admit this due to the joy that was evident on Ferdinand’s face as they rode down to the stadium, and Edelgard’s proud smile as she made her way through the crowds with Byleth at her side as the heroes of the war. While this was an annoyance to him, if the people he cared about were enjoying themselves...he’d have to endure the headache.

Even if the festivities gave Hubert a headache, seeing all of his old friends together helped. There was nothing quite like the promise of beating up your former classmates to band everyone together and rekindle school rivalries. There was something wonderful about watching the men of Strike Team squabble over who would win in their respective categories. 

“Hubert,” Ferdinand’s voice cut through Hubert’s vague focus on their schoolmates, and he turned to see Ferdinand standing there with the chest his armor came in, “I told my squire to handle the horse and other equipment, so would you mind terribly if you helped me get dressed?”

It was a task Hubert was intimately familiar with. He’d latched Edelgard’s armor more times than he could count. Besides that, he’d unlatched Ferdinand’s armor enough times that doing the process in reserve wouldn’t be too challenging. And the opportunity to have a moment alone on a day like this was rare indeed. 

A sly smirk on Hubert’s face sent Ferdinand to blushing in almost an instant. 

“Very well, I can see to your needs.”

“I am much obliged, Hubert.”

The dressing areas in the stadium were private and lush, given how the Empire had existed in opulence back in the day. Hubert had always despised the excess, finding it gaudy. Now though, it was a blessing since it meant Hubert could linger with Ferdinand without others sticking their noses in it. 

Ferdinand’s armor was laid in a neat set up in the chest, polished and free of any dents and blemishes. Hubert knew how Ferdinand prided himself on keeping his armor in top condition, and how he’d saved to have to armor engraved with beautiful detail work. It wasn’t the armor that he wore into battle, one one that had gashes filled with new iron and with divots and scratches that couldn’t be buffed away. This was the armor for the people to see him in, so they wouldn’t have to know the horror of war. 

“Where shall we start?” Hubert looked over the armor assembled, and noticed that Ferdinand had ridden over in his bottom half of his armor already, his more casual armor laid out for his return after the joust. “I see you’ve already taken the liberty of wearing the hardest parts to put on.”

“Ah, yes, I was not sure if there would be room for me to get ready in comfort.” Ferdinand’s voice was muffled by his clothing as he stripped his more fanciful topmost clothing. His cape was carefully laid aside with his pauldrons and gauntlets, and a shy smile came over his face, “And I was not sure if it would be too...intimate to have you help me with that in public.”

And there it was again. It was the irksome point of his wish to remain private mixing with Ferdinand’s unending compassion and understanding. It always filled him with a contrasting ruhs of emotions. Shame at letting Ferdinand down, and all the love that sprung up from Ferdinand’s understanding. 

“It wouldn’t be too out of place,” Hubert countered, trying to save a little face in the situation, “After all, I assisted you many times during the war once I was finished with Lady Edelgard.” He closed the distance between the two of them, running his gloved fingers over the edge of Ferdinand’s leg armor.

“No, but what with how nosey our comrades can be, I wanted today to be free of any death threats and ‘accidents’.” Ferdinand captured Hubert’s wandering hand, bringing it up to his chest. The heat of his hand was nearly too much, even through Hubert’s glove. They so rarely were free of their gloves, that even in their hours alone it was uncommon for them to touch with their bare hands. 

The warmth of Ferdinand’s hands seeped through Hubert’s gloves right into his skin, and unconsciously, Hubert felt himself relax closer. He didn’t try to rescue his hand either, simply folding his fingers around Ferdinand’s. 

“You’re that sure I’m going to sabotage your opponents?”

“How else do you prove your love?” Ferdinand laughed, a far cry from when he would protest loudly and angrily at Hubert’s tactics to ensure victory in battle. His carefree grin, and bright eyes were enough to prove they’d moved past that difference. “I tease, of course. You are not so underhanded to spoil my personal victories with cheating.”

“I would not call my methods  _ cheating _ , but I promised Lady Edelgard I would not interfere on your behalf.” Hubert cocked his head to the side, tilting his chin up, “I have no doubts you will trounce your opponents on the pitch without my help.”

“Is that so?” Ferdinand’s lips ghosted over the small exposed portion of Hubert’s neck, and Hubert could feel the smile against his skin. Ferdinand lingered there, and unconsciously Hubert’s arm circled around his waist, pulling the loose undershirt in towards the small of Ferdinand’s back. “Then I simply refuse to lose with such a ringing endorsement.” 

Ferdinand pulled back suddenly, face flushed a bit with sudden embarrassment at his boldness. He extricated himself from Hubert’s grasp, and went over to his chest of armor. With a slight cough, he gestured to it.

“But to win I need to prepare! So, if you would…?” 

“I assume you can put your own chainmail on, correct?” Hubert didn’t even finish the sentence before Ferdinand had scooped the mail out of the chest and shimmied into it. Hubert chuckled at the quick action but picked up the neck guard, and slipped it around Ferdinand’s neck, brushing his hair out of the way. “You should bind your hair back, you always complain when it gets stuck in your helmet.”

“But then when I take my helmet off once I win I cannot throw my head back in triumph!” Ferdinand pouted, “I did not grow this hair out for fashion but if I do not take advantage of what it is good for, then what is the point?”

“What, are you going out of your way to torment the young women in court?” Hubert rolled his eyes, pulling a hair tie from his jacket, making a quick job of sweeping Ferdinand’s hair back into a horsetail. While his hands were behind Ferdinand’s neck, he checked to make sure the neck guard was snug enough to keep Ferdinand safe. His hands were still looped back there as Ferdinand blinked at him in surprise. Hubert could hardly believe a man so smart could be so dense.

“Surely you’re aware of your influence on the women of the capitol.”

“I-” Ferdinand shook his head, taking Hubert’s hands from his neck and holding them in between them. “You know I would never lead any woman to think that I hold affections for her.”

“Yet your kindness can be taken as…” Hubert tried to find a diplomatic way to tell Ferdinand that his helpfulness and earnest attitude sometimes came off as courtly favoring. Ferdinand had come a long way of blatantly trying to court their various classmates, but he’d never shed his need to help people, or listen to their troubles. It was a good trait in a person. A noble trait to be sure. 

It was also deeply annoying to watch Ferdinand be that way and have women fall at his feet, with Ferdinand all the more unaware. 

“Your kindness is often seen as...something more intimate by some of the ladies in the court.”

“Hubert, I had no idea!” The passion welling up in his eyes told Hubert he wasn’t lying, as if he didn’t know already, “You know I am nothing but devoted to you! You are my-my-” Ferdinand tripped on the words, as Hubert had in the past as well. They weren’t betrothed. Not out in society together. So what was the term?

“You are my dearest other half.” Was what Ferdinand eventually settled on, squeezing Hubert’s hands, “And if it makes you feel ill at ease...I shall cease with my helpfulness to the young ladies of the court.”

“No, that won’t do,” Hubert pulled his hands free from Ferdinand’s grasp, and bent over to pull the breast and back plate of Ferdinand’s armor out, “Your ability to empathize and assist the public is instrumental to your role as Prime Minister.” He set the straps holding the two plates together at the top a little looser so Ferdinand could get into it.

Hubert turned to Ferdinand, raising the armor, “And you will be late for your joust if we continue prattling on like this.” 

Dutifully, Ferdinand extended his arms out, and allowed Hubert to cinch it tighter down his sides. Hubert gave an experimental tug to the breastplate, and hummed in approval at it’s lack of give. He let his fingers linger across the golden trim for a few moments, admiring the handiwork, before letting his hand move away.

“Which hand will you using to joust? Right or left?”

“Ah! The right of course. I can do either but against some of our comrades I would rather have my best arm.” 

“Then we shall armor that one last.” Hubert moved to the chest again, grabbing Ferdinand’s pauldron and braces for his left arm. With practiced ease, he laced and latched the armor up, leaving his hands bare for the moment. 

When he moved to the right arm, Hubert noticed how quiet Ferdinand was. Glancing up he noted that his eyes were closed and his lips were moving silently. Prayer then. Ferdinand had always been a believer, even if he  _ had _ been instrumental in tearing down the centuries old structure of the Church. It was a belief in something more powerful than him, something that could inspire. 

Hubert didn’t need that. He had Edelgard, a real, physical person to inspire him to do good in the world. He’d never needed the Goddess or any of Seiros’s teachings. He’d snarked at Ferdinand in the past over his belief in a false god. It was a surefire way to get under his skin in their youth. Hubert had found it an easy way to brighten his mood.

As they grew older, and Hubert softened to Ferdinand, he realized more and more that sometimes people need to put their faith in something more than people. Their bond grew, and it wasn’t so pleasant to make fun of Ferdinand’s religious leanings. It also didn’t help that instead of taking pleasure from the way Ferdinand would go all doe eyed and pout, Hubert felt twinges of guilt and disgust with himself. 

So he would let Ferdinand keep his prayer. It was a small enough thing, and if it granted him any reprieve from his nightmares and troubles...Hubert would be glad of it for him. 

“You’re almost ready, Ferdinand.” Hubert took the last piece of the armor, the large red and gold checkered shoulder guard, and snickered at the design. Where the rest of the armor was beautifully made, this was gaudy and roughly used. Logically, Hubert knew it was so that it would be easy to see if a knight had gotten a hit on his on the pass, but still. A brightly colored target seemed unwise even for a false battle. 

“Wonderful! I cannot thank you enough, Hubert.” Ferdinand helped Hubert hold the guard in place so it could be laced and latched into place. “Do I look fighting fit?”

Hubert took a step back, taking the full picture in and managed a smirk. Naturally Ferdinand looked ridiculous. Armor outside of battle always looked ridiculous. But...the natural glow from Ferdinand’s radiant smile and the way he cocked his hip out as he posed…

“You look as dashing as you should.” Hubert conceded, ignoring the way Ferdinand crowed in victory and the butterflies in his stomach. “And you’ll be late, so hurry along.” He handed Ferdinand his gauntlets and his helmet, pausing as they locked eyes. 

“Is there anything...ah...that you might also have for me, Hubert?” Ferdinand fished, leaning into Hubert slightly. The slight whisper of hope in his voice, and the puppy dog quality of his eyes made Hubert twitch.

“Good luck.” Hubert pressed a kiss to Ferdinand’s cheek, before turning him around and giving him a light push to the stables, “Now go on. Your groom and squire are waiting for you.” 

\--

The Emperor’s box was far closer to the action of the tournament than Hubert cared for. He understood that due to the nature of the tournament they needed to be close enough for combatants to receive their honors directly from Edelgard but…

Well, Hubert never  _ had _ enjoyed being so close to battle. 

“You don’t seem to be enjoying yourself, Hubert.” Edelgard drawled in between a bout of two captains in swordplay. “Have you had your fill of this celebration already?” Her smirk was fond as she looked at her right hand man through the corner of her eye.

“You have it in one, Lady Edelgard. This pageantry is...let’s just say I’d rather be at the opera.”

“Oh? But you dislike the opera so openly.”

“To Dorothea’s and Ferdinand’s disappointment, yes.”

“But you dislike this more?” Edelgard turned to him fully now, amusement clear on his face.

“Very much so.”

It was worth his discomfort to hear Edelgard laugh so freely. She bent over in her chair, delight written on her face. 

“So the truth comes out at last! Dorothea was  _ right _ .” Edelgard straightened up, her cheeks straining to keep her smile from turning into a grin, “You only agreed to this for Ferdinand after all.”

“Am I so transparent?” Hubert grumbled, before Edelgard rested a hand on his arm. 

“Not at all. Only to those of us who have known you for so long. I think it’s a good thing, trying to make him happy.” Edelgard had calmed her laughter enough at this point, and schooled her face to a calmer, warm smile. She squeezed his arm slightly, jostling it a little. “You two are a wonderful match. Truly. It makes me glad that you’ve found each other, despite how you two started off.”

“Oh? You mean fighting like cats and dogs?”

“Precisely.” Edelgard nodded, and gestured to across the field where in an opposite box, the rest of the Black Eagle Strike Force were sitting. The members who weren’t involved in the tournament were laughing and enjoying drinks with each other, and cheering loudly for everyone in the ring. They looked rather as they had when they were students, cheering over mock tournaments and carefree. The horrors of the war seemed to have melted off of them. 

“You see how happy everyone else is? Whenever I see you and Ferdinand alone I see you like that. And that’s a good thing. I like that you have something that belongs to you that had nothing to do with me.” 

“You take no credit in keeping Ferdinand close enough for me to get to know him?”

Edelgard shook her head, “No. Our teacher, he was the one who saw the potential. Byleth insisted I make sure you two learn to work together.” She chuckled, “I’m glad I listened.”

“Interesting...I’ll have to thank him appropriately later.” 

\--

It was still a while yet until the final event of the tournament. It made sense that the joust would go last, being as showy as it was. Hubert knew that the knights participating had likely spent the past hour getting themselves warmed up in the adjacent training arena. But he was growing impatient.

He’d had had a headache from the moment the day had started, but Hubert was willing to put the throbbing in his forehead aside to pay attention to the joust. The crowd roared as all of the contestants rode onto the pitch, banners streaming above the riders, proud and wonderful. It was easy to pick out Ferdinand’s banner, his family’s coat of arms bold and loud. Somehow, without Hubert to see that the hairband had stayed in place, Ferdinand’s hair had come loose again and was streaming behind him majestically. 

It was a sickeningly handsome image, that made Hubert’s stomach twist in disgust and excitement at the same time. It was hard to miss the higher pitch of the cheering as he rode past the stalls with the court sitting in it. Ferdinand’s bright smile, his perfect posture...He looked like a saint of war. It suited him, even if Hubert knew that Ferdinand would rather be sitting in a nice chair, sipping tea and reading a treatise on farming or some such thing. 

All of the mounted knights turned to face Edelgard’s box, saluting her with their swords. Only four combatants, thankfully. And all of them from the Strike Force. 

Sylvain was a favorite for the win, having nearly grown up in the saddle as a Faerghus noble. Leonie was a dark horse, her banner and armor humble for a knight. And Ashe, freshly knighted and made a liege lord for the Gaspard lands, had little hope of winning, but was proud to be there regardless. 

“I know you are hoping for Ferdinand to win, but I have my money on Sylvain.” Edelgard taunted, raising her hand to signal that the joust could begin. She sent a sidelong glance at Hubert, a smirk on her face, “He  _ is _ from Faerghus after all. They’re raised on a horse’s back.”

“You’re baiting me to rise to Ferdinand’s defense. I don’t have to.” Hubert huffed, sitting up in his seat a little taller. “His skill is unmatched, as you well know. And as clever as that...philanderer is, he won’t succeed.”

“And yet that was a stirring defense, despite your protests.” Edelgard leaned her elbow on the arm of her chair, dropping her chin into her waiting palm, “So it seems I am still able to outwit you at times.”

Hubert simply smiled, “It’s as you say, Lady Edelgard.”

The first rounds of the joust were stirring, but not the main event. Ferdinand made quick work of unseating Ashe and breaking lances against his shoulder. Hubert did his best to ignore the handkerchiefs being tossed into the ring after he was announced the victor.

Sylvain and Leonie had a far more even match, likely due to Sylvain underestimating Leonie’s strength in the first turn and having two lances break over his armor. His come from behind was cheered on loudly, and there was a similar rush of handkerchiefs and scarves being tossed into the ring. 

What was particularly bold, was how Sylvain made his way over to Edelgard’s box after winning his round. He tore off his helmet and bowed in his seat. Keeping his horse steady, Sylvain offered his hand towards Edelgard. Hubert rose to intercede but Edelgard waved a hand at him to silence him and let Sylvain speak.

“Might I ask for a token for the finals, my lady? I’ll be going against your former rival, so anything to prove I’m fighting in your stead will spur me on.” 

He had the nerve to throw in a wink, and Hubert felt his fingers prickle with thunder magic at the thought of Sylvain getting  _ anything _ from Edelgard. 

“You’re rather bold, Lord Gautier.” Edelgard stood. The smile on her face was inscrutable, but what really infuriated Hubert was the fact that she pulled a pale lavender handkerchief from her pocket and tied it around the offered hand’s wrist. “But I’m all for making this challenge more exciting for the people.” 

Sylvain bowed again, a shit eating grin on his face, and a sideways glance at Hubert as he trotted off to wait out the third place joust. Edelgard smoothly sat back in her seat, but Hubert couldn’t bring himself to do so. 

“You cannot be serious, Lady Edelgard.”

“You’re correct, Hubert. I’m not.” Edelgard glanced up at her friend, nonplussed, “My friendship with Sylvain is purely platonic. He’s attempting to egg Ingrid on into admitting she fancies him.”

“Must you do this in front of so many? People will talk.” Hubert groaned, falling back in his seat, already calculating how many of his spies would be working overtime to combat the rumors.

“I’m not concerned what people think, Hubert.” Edelgard tilted her chin up stubbornly, even if her eyes were glued to Ashe and Leonie’s joust. “It’s not for them to decide how I spend my time, or with whom. If I’m happy, what else matters?”

Hubert felt all the pieces fall into place, and suddenly felt all at once impressed and annoyed that he was being played like this. His friends were monsters. Clever monsters.

“I’m not trying to force you to do anything Hubert,” Edelgard finally whispered, pulling Hubert’s attention away from Leonie getting pulled up off the ground by Ashe at the end their match. “I just want you to be happy.”

“Thank you, Lady Edelgard.”

The trumpets pulled his attention back to the arena, as Ferdinand and Sylvain got ready for their first turn. He could see Ferdinand’s determination in the way his shoulders were set. Sylvain was sitting back in his saddle rather cockily, which Hubert smirked at. It would be his own downfall to underestimate Ferdinand. 

Hubert was proven right on the first pass, as Ferdinand’s lance shattered against Sylvain’s shoulder, causing the man to stagger in his saddle, clinging to his horse’s mane to remain on his horse. The crowd roared in approval, and Hubert found himself clapping along with the audience. 

The second pass wasn’t as successful, as Sylvain’s lance found it’s home against Ferdinand’s shoulder and splintered into a thousand pieces. Thankfully, Ferdinand remained in his seat, having had his own lance hit Sylvain squarely against the guard protecting his shoulder. 

“They’re rather well matched.” Edelgard mused, leaning forward in her seat, “I daresay this could be a close match yet.” 

The third pass had Ferdinand’s lance shatter again, winning the round. Ferdinand, a showman to the last, ripped his helmet off and did a lap around the arena, trading a lance for a banner. His hair was starting to mat to his forehead, sweat accumulating from the heat and exertion, but he was still glorious to look at. 

The second round was less favorable. Sylvain got an early shatter in the first pass, and Hubert was acutely aware of how the impact swung Ferdinand back in the saddle. He twisted unnaturally, and Hubert could tell his shoulder was pulled awkwardly. 

What was worse was the second pass. 

It seemed to happen in slow motion, as Ferdinand’s lance went wide. Hubert’s eyes widened as he knew in an instant what would happen when Ferdinand’s guard went wide. Sylvain’s lance met him almost square in the chest, launching him off of his galloping horse to soar in the air for a moment before hitting the dirt with a sickening clatter of armor. Hubert’s stomach dropped and he felt numb the moment the sound echoed around the field. 

The whole arena seemed to explode with excitement as Sylvain made his lap around the arena, the round won in the dehorsing. 

Meanwhile, Ferdinand struggled to his feet and his squire had to help him back up onto his horse. The first clung to his armor, and through a small slat of the helmet, Hubert could see blood trickling down his face. He stood without even being aware of it, and before Edelgard could remark on it, he’d twisted his fingers and had Ferdinand and his horse Warped over to him with an unconscious use of magic. 

Ferdinand, to his credit, kept his horse steady through the warp, his helmet swinging towards where Hubert stood. Without a word Hubert strode over and carefully removed Ferdinand’s helmet. 

A cut against his temple was bleeding at a steady rate, mixing with the sweat and grime on his face. Ferdinand blinked, wincing against the pain. 

“Hubert? What are you doi-ow!” He hissed as Hubert’s hand pressed against his forehead, thumbing around the cut. Minor, but troublesome. There was undoubtedly some head trauma associated with it. He ignored Ferdinand’s squirming and focused on the wound instead. 

He’d never been good at Faith magic. You needed to believe in something higher to really excel at it. But as lousy as Hubert was at it-he was good enough to fix minor problems. His fingers glowed beneath his gloves and he watched as the cut sealed up, and the ragged breathing that was coming from Ferdinand’s chest eased. Moving his hand away from Ferdinand’s forehead, Hubert instead attempted to brush some of the drying blood away from Ferdinand’s eye. 

“Is that better?” Hubert’s voice was low over the clamor of the arena, as his forehead pressed to Ferdinand’s.

“Y-yes.” Ferdinand’s horse jostled him in his seat, but he stayed as close as he could to Hubert. “Ah, your gloves! I am so sorry.” Ferdinand pulled back slightly, and only then did Hubert look down at his right glove. It was covered in Ferdinand’s blood, drying into a muddy brown red. Hubert owned at least ten pairs of these gloves, and he was glad to lose a pair to help Ferdinand. Still-

It gave him an idea. 

“It’s no matter to me. Here. For encouragement.” Hubert waved the concern away, peeling both of his gloves off. He took the glove covered in Ferdinand’s blood and leaned over the edge of the box. Carefully, he tucked it in the front of Ferdinand’s breastplate with a smirk. “You’ll just have to win to make it up to me, won’t you?”

Ferdinand had been slumping slightly in his saddle before then, but suddenly straightened. The fire in his eyes ignited and his face broke into a wild grin. The sheer happiness radiating off of him was almost too much to look directly at. Another day Hubert would have scoffed at this moment, but now? It was glorious to bask in this love. 

“But of course!” 

Ferdinand’s hand shot out and grabbed the back of Hubert’s head, pulling him in for a quick and bruising kiss. Over as quick as it started, it still sent Hubert’s heart racing. Before he could make a quip for a comeback, Ferdinand had grabbed his helmet out of Hubert’s other hand and urged his horse forward for the final round. 

Hubert watched as he went, fingers leaning wrapping around the railing of the stall in a rare show of unease. The moment Ferdinand took the pitch again, the crowd roared in approval, feet stomping to the rhythm of their cheers. He heard the trumpets call for the first pass and held his breath as he watched the two horses charge at each other. 

The collision of both of their lances was deafening as their shattered against the armor. The both of them staggered from the hit, but refused to fall, making their way around for another pass. The second pass showed their weariness, with both riders lances hitting but refusing to shatter. 

As they geared up for the final pass, Hubert watched as Ferdinand’s helmet turned to look at him. It was foolish to think that Ferdinand’s amber eyes were locked with his own, but he could feel the weight of that gaze, and the ferocity of his will to win. When Ferdinand turned back to the run, he squared his shoulders and urged his horse on with a ferocious roar.

It was as though he could not be moved-for even as Sylvain’s lance broke against his shoulder, Ferdinand pushed forward, his lance digging into Sylvain. It wasn’t a moment more before Ferdinand’s forward momentum dragged Sylvain off of his horse and onto the dirt. Hubert’s heart soared, and from his own lips a cry of excitement ripped forth.

As soon as the pass finished, Ferdinand threw his helmet off, tossing it aside in a rare moment of disrespect for his gear. As his squire tossed him his banner, Ferdinand set off for Edelgard’s box. The crowd was on their feet, the din of the cheers mixing and rising overhead. As Ferdinand stopped in front of the box, his smile was proud. 

“I told you that you could place your money on me!” He offered Hubert a hand, and before Hubert could stop himself from thinking too much about the repercussions of the action, he took it. With practiced ease, Hubert was pulled over the edge and into Ferdinand’s saddle. His arm locked around Hubert’s waist to hold the reins and keep him secure, while the other held his banner as he took off around the stadium. 

Hubert leaned into Ferdinand’s chest, ignoring the way that the armor was uncomfortable and allowed himself to enjoy the feeling of security and victory. The way the whole stadium was cheering for Ferdinand, the grin on his face, his beautiful, stupid hair flowing behind him...It was a perfect moment. 

When Ferdinand finally stopped in the center of the ring, he looked down at Hubert, craning his neck. The softness in his smile was only for him, not the crowd around them. Hubert turned as much as he could in the saddle, and reached up with his ungloved hand to cup Ferdinand’s cheek. 

“I came through thanks to you, Hubert.” Ferdinand’s voice was bursting with pride, “How can I repay you?”

How indeed. 

Hubert looked around, noting the laughter and cheering from their fellow Strike Force members in the stands, egging him on. And then on the other side, Edelgard’s knowing smile as she waved to the two of them.  _ Be happy, eh?  _ His mind ticked, as he turned back to Ferdinand. 

What else made him happier than this man?

Nothing. 

So he let his hand dip into Ferdinand’s hair and tugged him down for a full kiss on the lips. There was a sound of surprise from Ferdinand, but not for long as he dropped his banner to bring his own hand behind Hubert’s head to press closer for their kiss. 

Hubert was sure the crowd was still cheering, shocked by the display, and he was sure he’d hear about it later but…

For now? 

Hang them all. 

This was enough.

**Author's Note:**

> I'd love to give this pairing another shot, at some point, but I'm not sure how suited my writing is to them, so let me know!!


End file.
